


Graduation Day

by TCRegan



Series: No Exchanges or Refunds [4]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Anders graduates, he goes to Mr. Thekla to tell him how he really feels. Takes place in the No Exchanges universe, many years before the main plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graduation Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DearSeptember](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearSeptember/gifts).



> For DearSeptember, a wonderful friend of mine who's a diehard Anders/Karl shipper, and whose birthday happens to be today. I always had this idea in mind and now I have a reason to write it. Happy Birthday, Savvi! :)

After the last speech, the recently graduated students and their families filed into the gymnasium, long buffet tables weighed down with food lining the walls. The crowd was a sea of maroon and yellow, the school's awful clashing colors. Anders had already lost his graduation cap somewhere in the auditorium with the rest of the caps that had been thrown into the air in celebration. He knew his brother would be waiting to congratulate him after the ceremony, but there was only one person he wanted to see now.

Slipping out of the gym unnoticed was easy enough. Ever since Nate left school, he'd had little in the way of friends, picking fights with other students who'd speak badly about mages. Principal Greagoir, the man in charge of finding a suitable punishment for him when that happened, was currently speaking to a large group of parents, likely trying to weasel donations from them. Anders didn't care. His father wouldn't be among them, likely home and passed out drunk on the couch. And while he'd spotted Justice earlier, he could always tell his brother he'd felt sick after the ceremony. A flimsy excuse, but upsetting him was the least of his concerns at the moment.

The halls, normally crowded with loud, raucous students, were blissfully empty. The harsh fluorescents disappeared as he turned a corner, giving way to the softer emergency lights above the rows of lockers. He'd never been in the school at night before, and there was a definite feeling of mischief as his shiny, uncomfortable dress shoes clicked on the tile floor. He hurried up the double-back staircase and along another hall, his breath catching as he saw a classroom door propped open. Slowly he approached, stopping on the threshold.

Karl Thekla, his English professor, was standing at his desk, leaning over his briefcase as he pulled papers from one of the drawers. Perhaps sensing Anders he looked up, smiling, and waved him in. Anders stepped inside, closing the door behind himself. His heart pounded against his ribcage. For the last year, he'd been harboring a crush on the handsome older man, willing himself not to do anything to jeopardize their relationship or his teacher's job. But now the only thing he had to fear was rejection. He was no longer Mr. Thekla's student.

"Anders, congratulations," Karl said, smiling beneath his beard. He held out his hand.

Anders let out a breath as he crossed the room to shake it, feeling the warm, calloused skin under his own. He returned the smile a bit shakily, stomach turning pleasantly as he thought of what to say. No words came, and instead he leaned forward, kissing him impulsively. Perhaps it was sheer surprise, but there was no resistance and Anders pressed him back against the whiteboard easily, hands sliding onto his former teacher's hips, holding him there. Karl's lips parted and Anders didn't hesitate, sliding his tongue again Karl's, moaning quietly at the heat he found there. The kiss ended too quickly, too abruptly, and Anders looked down, a burning heat in his cheeks.

"Anders, look at me," Karl whispered.

He did.

"What are you doing?" Karl spoke in the same calm, measured tone he used during class. His 'teacher' voice Anders recognized when someone gave an answer that wasn't quite complete, when he was looking for just a bit more elaboration.

"Kissing you."

"I gathered. I suppose that was a rhetorical question. I was hoping for a more explanatory answer," he said, a corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

"I'm not your student anymore. I wanted to. I didn't want to get you in trouble. I didn't want-" Anders broke off. 

Normally, Mr. Thekla's English class was the only one in which he spoke. And when he did, it was at length, with his own interpretation of the text. He was Karl's favorite student, he knew, and Karl was – had been – his favorite teacher. A mutual respect and friendship continued to grow, and for the last several months Karl was all Anders ever dreamed of, the subject of many fantasies.

"I want you. I want to be with you."

Karl leaned against the whiteboard, arms crossed against his sweater as he looked at Anders with scrutiny. "Why? I'm sure there are many young men your age-"

"Don't make this about age," Anders said quickly. He knew this would be one of the arguments that Karl would present. He didn't care. The only other person he had felt even remotely close to was now across the country, Nathaniel dealing with his father's drama. "I want you. I'm in love with you."

"Anders, you're young. You're confu-"

Anders kissed him again, trying to infuse the passion, the need that he felt. He wanted to make Karl understand. And when Karl pushed him back, he heard the frustrated whimper that left his own lips. Another step back and he was against the desk, hands gripping the cool metal, head down and prepared for rejection.

"I won't insult you further then," Karl said, sounding amused. "You know what you want. Anders, look at me," he insisted.

Anders looked up again.

Karl stepped forward. "I will ask you this once more for clarity. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Anders swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry, and nodded. "More than anything in the world. You saved my life. You were the reason I kept going." He ran a shaking hand through his hair, bangs falling to frame his face as they pulled free of his ponytail. "Hell, you're the reason I'm going to medical school in the fall. Without your help, I never would have applied – I never would've been accepted for study."

Karl's smile broadened. "Don't sell yourself short. You're a brilliant young man." He reached up, cupping Anders' smooth cheek. "I simply helped you realize your potential."

"I love you," Anders declared, and immediately felt himself blush, a nervous heat swirling in his stomach, his chest tightening.

A pause.

"Very well then."

Before Anders could ask what he meant, Karl leaned in and kissed him. His heart skipped a beat as he returned the kiss, gasping as he was pinned to the desk, his teacher's body flush against his. He cupped Karl's face, thumbs brushing through the coarse beard. Another whimper as Karl pulled away again, but the protest died as quickly as it formed, Anders feeling the insistent kisses now against the hollow of his throat. His hands fell away, gripping the desk yet again as Karl nipped his sensitive skin, a firm thigh pressed between his legs.

Months of fantasizing and finally, _finally_ he was here in Mr. Thekla's classroom, kissing him, being with him, and his body reacted accordingly. He felt himself harden against Karl's leg, blushing at how easily aroused he was. Hot lips found his ear and teeth tugged on the golden earring in his lobe. He moaned wantonly, thrusting down against the thigh that felt like the only thing holding him up.

"Gorgeous," Karl whispered. "Tell me yes."

"Yes," Anders whined. "Yes, anything. Anything."

Karl gripped his graduation gown, hiking it up to his hips. In a second, Anders felt his belt loosen, the button to his dress pants open, and his mind whirled. He forced himself to open his eyes, watching as Karl slid to his knees, one hand holding the gown up, the other pulling down the elastic of his boxers.

"Oh sweet Maker," he whispered as ink-stained fingers carefully guided his erection from his pants. A noise that might have been a croak escaped his throat as Karl looked up at him, and he cried out as Karl stroked him. "Mr. Thekla, oh fuck… oh Maker, please. Yes."

He watched as the tip of his cock disappeared between Karl's lips, an indescribable surge of pleasure racing through his body. Panting, he dug his fingers into the desk as Karl began to suck him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, eyes closing against his will, overwhelmed. One hand released the desk, reaching forward instinctively to grip Karl's shoulder for balance.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered, hips thrusting forward accidentally, seeking more of that delicious wet heat.

Karl chuckled, the sensation shooting straight to the base of his spine. Anders cried out, thrusting again.

"Maker, oh… fuck. Karl, please!"

He was babbling, unsure of what he was even saying now, dimly aware that he was fucking his teacher's mouth, that Karl was allowing it, feeling only slightly guilty but too swept away in the intensity to care at the moment. He fell over the edge, coming hard as he gripped Karl's shoulder, riding out he waves of his orgasm.

A fantasy of his, finally fulfilled. And he knew as Karl stood and kissed him soundly, that he was gone. He'd fallen so far in love, he was drowning in it, and he didn't care to be saved. So long as he had Karl, he could face anything life decided to throw at him.


End file.
